


Smile for the Camera

by BreeZ_Claire



Series: As Days Go By [11]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bromance, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-26 01:00:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreeZ_Claire/pseuds/BreeZ_Claire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day in the life of Gwaine, the model.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smile for the Camera

When Merlin made crepes for breakfast, it was automatically a great day. Not only did it remind Gwaine of those warm spring days back home with his mum and pa, but when Merlin tucked in those little extras like strawberries, blueberries, chocolate chips, and the occasional vanilla ice cream that melted in his mouth like a ghost, Gwaine was in pure bliss.

"I take it you had a nice night?" Gwaine asked with a wink, because Merlin never made this many crepes unless he was in an exceptionally good mood. It wasn't just the crepes either, it was like a whole feast with the kitchen island lined with bowl after bowl of freshly cut fruits, chunks of chocolate, and bottles of syrup and whipped cream. It was a rare occasion indeed, and Gwaine was soaking up as much as he could before Arthur and Lance rushed down.

"Got a lot of writing done," Merlin beamed and spooned another glob of batter into the pan. Gwaine smiled back in between bites of strawberry-stuffed crepe and gulps of juice. He reached over to top off his mountain of whipped cream with a few peanut butter chips as the writer slash assistant elaborated. "I got a call from Elyan last week. They said they were going to use one of my articles in their next issue!"

"Good on you, lad," Gwaine spoke as he raised a fork to toast in good spirit and clinked it against Merlin's spatula when the boy turned around. "What's it on?"

"Nothing big, just a little help column: 'How to Live on a Budget'," He answer cheekily. Gwaine bursted out laughing.

"I should've known."

It was no surprise that Merlin grew up in a whole other world from Gwaine, Arthur, and Lance. Little bits and pieces of the past had come out over cups of coffee, dinners by the TV, and late afternoon pillow fights and it didn't take much for Gwaine to see that the newest edition to their family was still getting use to his home despite having been with them for over a year. Merlin was frugal by nature, Gwaine knew, from his Value Village clothes to his DIY pottery cups – the latter was a hobby he took after his mother. "Waste not, want not," was a common phrase used in the Emrys household.

Gwaine never thought much of the green stuff though. He enjoyed the good life of fine wines and even finer dining and, just like Arthur and Lance, didn't hesitate to splurge here and there on what they saw as 'little things' such as a new refrigerator, a few new coffee makers, or even a larger TV to go with the new renovations. That white and gold china set they'd just bought? They had another four sets stashed somewhere behind the cupboard and in the storage. Every other week they'd have to replace the dining room table because it was either smashed by someone –drunk out of the there ever loving mind— attempting a swan dive over the railings or broken accidentally-on-purpose because one of the three –never Merlin— didn't like the pattern.

It wasn't until Merlin moved in that they realized just how well-off they were. Merlin saved his money, protected his computer like a mama bear guarding her cubs. He reduced, reused, and recycled; waiting till the dishwasher was full before turning it on. The boy almost broke down in tears when he dropped a glass plate, hyperventilating and calling out every apology under the sun until Arthur shoved a paper bag in his face barking the order, "Breathe, you idiot!"

Merlin had calmed down considerable after that and Gwaine spent hours each day trying to coax Merlin out of using plastic everything, finally winning him over with some environmental speech he'd copied off of the internet. Even then, Merlin still had trouble comprehending that if he broke something, it _wouldn't_ mean the end of the world and no, he wouldn't be thrown out onto the streets without food, water, and shelter.

"You worry too much," Gwaine had told his friend after buying an umbrella. They were just coming back from their visit to Merlin's uncle –that man had Eyebrows of Doom almost as frighten as his Aunt Muriel— when the April showers started coming down full force. Neither of them had an umbrella and they were still a long ways away from home so they ducked into a shop to buy one. Merlin had dragged his feet, complaining something fierce about buying an umbrella when they already had six or seven stashed away at home – said umbrellas having been bought under the same pretenses. "Hakuna matata!"

Merlin stared at him, perplexed, and for a moment Gwaine had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking at the doe-eyed boy standing before a backdrop of gray streets, blurred traffic, and pouring rain. If Arthur were there he probably would've commented that the boy's rained down hair made his large ears stick out even more.

Merlin cocked his head, "Did you just quote Lion King at me?"

Gwaine just smiled, threw an arm around his friend, and together they walked home having one hell of a Disney quote off.

Merlin was spooning the last of the batter now and Gwaine was starting on his seventh crepe when Arthur and Lance dashed down the stairs.

"Gwaine, you arse!" Arthur immediately stole away the plate piled with the goodies, loading himself a plate before passing the rest on to Lance who loaded a pile of chocolate chips on his stack of crepes not even bothering to fetch another plate. Arthur emptied the strawberry bowl, drizzling chocolate syrup over top to seal the deal. The boys dug in.

"Couldn't have left some for us, huh, Gwaine?" Lance pouted as if his four-crepe breakfast was nothing more than a small crumb. Merlin laughed his typical carefree laugh.

"There's more in the oven," The boy reached down to reveal another plateful of delicious heaven. There was a brief moment of silence when the kitchen came to a complete and utter standstill. Eyes shifted, and looks were exchanged. Arthur dived at the same time Lance lunged.

The two men collided, bringing an unfortunate end to another oven door. Merlin jumped back, barely managing a save when he tripped over someone's leg and crashed into the fridge. For once, Gwaine was the only one out of the four not smack dab in the center of chaos. He smiled at the realization.

"Shit." Merlin was holding himself up by the fridge handle. "Arthur! Lance!"

"Damn it."

"Ha!"

Lance rolled away, unloading three-quarters of the tower onto his plate before passing the rest to Arthur, still lying on the metal door, who took it with a painful but delighted groan. Merlin huffed, hands on his hips, and did his best to look cross at the two grown men. The apron and oven mitts, however, didn't exactly help the effort.

Gwaine finished off his breakfast between bouts of laughter.

"You are a Godsend, Merlin." He pushed his plate away and stood up, making his way to the door. It was rare of him to be heading off so early in the morning, let alone leave before the rest of his flatmates, but today was a special day. "Well, gentlemen, I must bid you farewell. Duty calls."

__

_**xXx** _

__

The car pulled up to a large glass building and Gwaine was quickly ushered in by his assistant; a clean-cut army captain wannabe in a grey suit and skinny tie, who always had a colourful arsenal of "You're late's" every time Gwaine uttered so much as a hello. In Gwaine's opinion, all that man needed was a good night or two in bed. Doing no sleeping once so ever. He didn't have any reservations on inviting the man back home, no, none at all, except for the fact that Guy Harris was a thoroughbred little braggart with a stink-eye to match Gaius' and a glare like a shepherd dog. He had nothing on Arthur, but it was still a pretty impressive glare.

They lingered in the lobby, Guy tapping his foot impatiently as always, and Gwaine made use of his time by going on a search-and-rescue mission for the first glass of liquor he could find. He looked back to catch Guy scrolling through his phone, frustrated with being thrown off schedule by a few minutes – "Six minutes, Gwaine, which puts us behind schedule for the new wardrobe fitting and photoshoot!" Gwaine just shook his head. That lad needed a good back rub…among other things…

Success! He got a tip from the doorman about an office birthday party being held in a nearby conference room. It was just a matter of snatching a little name card, flashing a few smiles, and poof. Mission accomplished. After a few drinks, Gwaine headed back to his herding dog with his phone a few numbers fuller. Or at least that's what people thought. Phone numbers came and went as easily as Gwaine replaced his phone –which was often. The only permanent numbers on there were those who mattered most.

His phone buzzed as he crossed the lobby and into the elevator, and Gwaine flipped it open in a blink. He smiled as he read the message because it was just like Merlin to send him something so cheerfully nervewracking without meaning to do so:

 

 _**From Merlin:** _ _Forgot to wish you good luck today! So… good luck!_

"It's barely nine." Guy pinched the bridge of his nose as they rode up to the third floor. "Please don't tell me you're drunk already."

"Wonderful, isn't it?" Gwaine beamed. Of course he wasn't drunk; the conference was handing out apple cider! A travesty indeed. But Guy didn't need to know, the lad was almost as easy and fun to tease as Merlin. Except Merlin had those adorable blue eyes and his carefree smile whereas Guy had his…thick-rimmed spectacles and tie clip.

But in Guy's defense, it was a rather shiny tie clip and he took care of it very well.

After a quick-and-dirty briefing and updating on future jobs – Barbados next week would do wonders on his fading tan – they were on the move once again. Guy rode with a smile, as did Gwaine, but only because traffic was moving miraculously fast for the time of day. Gwaine was smiling for a completely different reason.

A nice weekend away after all his work in the city would be greatly appreciated and who knows? He could probably pull a few strings and bring the group along as well. He couldn't remember the last time they'd all been together on vacation, and Gwaine knew that Arthur would be itching for one of those frilly pink drinks he so secretly loved ever since their spring vacation days back in college. Plus, trips to exotic places always brought on the tradition of tacky Hawaiian shirts loud enough to be heard from across the globe. And Merlin had yet to join in on that sacred tradition.

Lance could use a day on the beach as well; the man was fierce when it came to beach volleyball and with Lance, Gwen, Arthur, and Morgana preoccupied with their competitive natures, that left Merlin free for wingman duty!

They hadn't gotten to spend much time together anymore, and Gwaine greatly regretted it. Arthur had officially banned them from the bar hopping scene ever since the whole Evil Harry Potter incident and there wasn't much time left for bonding between Gwaine's modelling schedule and Merlin's late night slash early morning writing rota. That, and working for Arthur, left the lad dead tired by the day's end. Merlin probably needed a vacation more than any one of them.

As the car reached their stop, Gwaine felt a familiar pang somewhere in his chest; not painful, but more like a small yearning. He took a breath as Guy dragged him from the backseat and into the building. When they stepped into the studio, Gwaine knew exactly where to go. The lights that used to blind him only left a soft glow in his peripherals now. The shoot-throughs and reflective umbrellas no longer left blotches in his vision and the clicks and shuffling of cameras and people no longer intimidated or confused him. This was his life, his job, and he flourished here.

His pocket buzzed again, and this time Gwaine frowned.

 

 _**From Arthur:** _ _Five years is a little long for fore-play don't you think?_

Another message from Merlin – _Sorry! Sorry! Arthur stole my phone._ – told him enough to know that Arthur official knew. Gwaine rolled his eyes, _secret's finally out then_. He braced when his phone buzzed again, only this time it wasn't mocking condescension that lay sprawled on the screen as he would've expected from Arthur, but something that was almost supportive.

 

 _**From Arthur:** _ _If she really makes you feel this way, it's about time she met the family yeah? Bring her over._

 _**From Merlin:** _ _Ask her out!_

Gwaine cursed with a smile. It was a rare occasion to find Arthur and Merlin not at each other's necks. When the two of them fought it was almost impossible for anyone to break them out of it. It was a brooding storm of rolling anger and sullen grudges that had to be waited out until someone broke. But when those two actually agreed on something…

"On time for once, I see," a curt voice made him look up just in time to catch a heap of clothes thrown his way. By the time he managed to clear a line of sight, the strawberry-blonde had already turned away, heels clicking as she walked away to straightened out a suit jacket on a nearby rack. Gwaine skipped to a start; following the girl to the small nook he called his wardrobe room.

"Madeleine," he said with an easy smile. The young stylist just as easily ignored him, choosing to pick her way through the clothes surrounding them. The multiple racks of suits, shirts, scarves, hats –every article of clothing you could ever think of really—created a semi-private changeroom for him to change. Not that Gwaine ever had problems with changing in public, but apparently that was frowned upon. "Tu me manques."

He bent down in a small bow when Madeleine turned around and he could just make out the small shadows of her beige heels click by, ignoring him. "Get changed, Gwaine, we don't have all day." But despite her clipped tone, she smiled, and Gwaine counted it a small victory. With Madeleine it was all about the small victories.

Madeleine Mandol was one of the top up-and-coming stylists in New York, which was quite a feat at such a young age – but then again, Gwaine was one of the same being one of the main go-to faces of many designers like Abercrombie and Fitch, Ralph Lauren, and Gentlemen's Quarterly. The two of them met one month after Gwaine first started his career and they had been working together on many occasions since then. With Madeleine, Gwaine always knew what to expect.

Her strawberry-blonde hair was always neatly tied up, leaving a small almost-bun at the end where her waved locks would curl in slightly. Her glasses, a little thick for her small features but still managing to pull off a look of classy-sophistication, sat perfectly on her nose and hid the slight hint of freckles Gwaine knew she hated:

"They make me look about twelve years old, Gwaine." She confided to him once. They were shooting in Trafalgar Square when a sudden downpour forced the cameramen and crew to shut down, bringing the shoot to a standstill. The two of them sat under a small tent, passing a thermos of coffee between them while Gwaine dotted the small freckle on her nose with his pinkie as the rain drops fell around them.

"Ahh but Maddie, age is so relative. Plus I don't think you'd look quite as beautiful without them." He never said how endearing he thought they were, especially when she matched them with her favourite coral lipstick.

Madeleine was rare breed of woman, and from the moment Gwaine laid eyes on her those five years ago, he'd never looked at another the same way. The lass never expected anything less than perfect. She was always on time and on top of things. And if Gwaine hadn't known the two so well separately, he could've sworn Arthur and Madeleine were cut from the same cloth of overbearing and condescending.

But even with her perfectionist ways, Maddie was never cold or snappish and Gwaine always took his wins with her in stride. Despite her tailored suits and poise, demanding nature, Madeleine could also be kind and sweet. For one, she always save him at least a sip or two of her cocoa during subzero photoshoots in winter. For another, she never asked him to take off his pendant, a gift from his grandfather and a most treasured family heirloom he always wore around his neck. Gwaine always thought a girl like Maddie fell in line with the Gwens of the world; a forever kind of girl never to be left go.

It was, therefore, a surprise –albeit a wondrous surprise—when he found out she wasn't taken. No ring. No boyfriend. No girlfriend. And that was when the pursuit began. Sure, five years in the making and he'd barely built up the nerve to invite her on more than a simple outing. But what was man to do?

"Missed you in Rome last month," he spoke with a grin, shouldering on a grey blazer.

"Did you?" Madeleine smoothed down the shoulders before stepping around to inspect the front. "I'm sure you had enough models to keep you company."

That was true, to an extent. The photoshoot in Europe was certainly a sight to behold for more reasons than one. European women, on the other hand, weren't the highlight of said sights; too styled for his tastes. And after traveling there every few months, the once breath-taking architecture had turned jaded in his eyes. But then again, maybe it was because he was missing something –or someone- to share it with that made his visits so dull.

Gwaine shook his head, fumbling as he did up his tie under the stylist's accusing glare. "Not at many as you'd believe my dear," he said, calm and measured.

"Mmhmm," she shooed away his hands. "You know one of these days you're going to have to learn how to tie a tie properly."

"But that's why I have you here, yeah?" Actually, Gwaine was the one who first taught Merlin how to tie a tie. But Maddie didn't need to know that.

"I'm sure you'd be completely lost without me in Barbados anyways," was her reply.

Gwaine blinked, paused, and rewinded before replaying her words in his head twice over. "You're just telling me this now?"

"Wouldn't want you to lose sleep over it," the stylist looked up after adjusting the tie. She was smirking at him. "I know how much stress it causes you to be told what you can or can't do. I heard you were a handful in Europe so Guy asked for me to be there this time. Apparently you wouldn't listen to anyone else when they tell you your tie doesn't match your shoes?"

"Well," Gwaine shrugged and looked up at the ceiling. Maybe Guy wasn't so bad after all… "It does get a little hard to ignore someone who's as much of a tyrant as one of the buggers I live with."

"There's nothing wrong with knowing what you like."

"No," his voice softened. He let his gaze drop back down, loving the golden flecks around her green irises. "There isn't."

It wasn't longer after he'd slipped on his shoes that Gwaine was dragged off in front of the camera. Smiles, pouts, and looks into the far off distance were all second nature to him by now and to be perfectly honest, he was grateful for it. Hidden behind the bright flashes and reflective umbrellas, it was all Gwaine could do not to lurch forward in search of a certain pair of emerald eyes. He just hoped Madeleine was telling the truth about Barbados.

They didn't get the chance to continue their little chat until after the shoot had finished. Madeleine was waiting for him in the nook as he walked up and twirled his bowler hat, placing it lightly on her head before shrugging off his vest.

"You really don't care if you rip anything do you?" She asked as Gwaine flung off his tie and kicked off his shoes into a bucket.

"That hat," he ignored her, tapping the brim of the velvet still on her head. He winked, "It suits you."

"Hats aren't in right now."

"I'm sure you could start a trend."

The smallest of giggles met his ears, and Gwaine joined in with a laugh on his own. The clothes were sorted and put away and slowly but surely, the studio emptied out. The model and the stylist made their way out into the streets where the summer rains were making a rather loud entrance. Gwaine stood under the canopy, gazing on as Maddie took a step into the downpour. It was funny, Gwaine thought, how someone could be so panicked about the welfare of clothing yet so willingly drench themselves in the rain.

Maddie twirled on her toes, arm wrapped around her to keep her jacket from flying open, and Gwaine joined as the grey skies opened up. "Not worried about your hair I suppose?" He teased.

She shrugged, smile fading from her lips. "It's not like I have a date or anything waiting for me at home."

"You could always come over to mine." He stuck out an arm to hail a cab before chancing a glance back again. It was the first time he'd asked, but it definitely wouldn't be the last time either. The constant back and forth was routine for them, almost to the point where one could predict the other's next sentence. Even as the flash of yellow pulled to the curb, he never let up.

"And what would we do there?"

"Anything you like."

"Well," the girl thought with a hum, pulling out the car door and resting against the glass. All around them the traffic zoomed, men and women rushed to escape the rain, and every corner, light, and sound seemed to blur. Everything seemed so rushed. Everything seemed to blend into the grey and blue, disappearing with the soft chorus of rain. Everything except the sight before him; almost-too-thick glasses, strawberry-blonde hair, and a sweet playful smile. "Why don't we wait and see what Barbados brings hmm?"

Gwaine beamed and she slipped into the car. "Will do. What better way to spend my weekend than to spend it with a princess on a beach?"

"Unfortunately," Madeleine looked up with a smile. She shook her head but blushed despite her better judgement. Later she'd tell herself it was due to the chill in the air, not the deep brown eyes that seemed to soften whenever their gaze fell on her. "I'm not a princess."

"Ahh, but you see," Gwaine bowed low and whispered. "You are to me."

And without another word, he closed the door and gave the car a tap-tap. He watched as the cab faded in with the blur of red and white lights. He stood there, listening as the sounds around him drowned in the _pitter-patter_ of the sweet, soft rain of summer.

Maybe there was still hope? After all, summer wasn't over just yet.


End file.
